Moving Violations
by Super Chino
Summary: An oversight from Ryan's past finds him in the clutches of a court assigned driving class. Some humor. Mostly Ryan and 'outside' characters.


Moving Violations 

**(One Shot)**

A/N - Hey y'all! I've been sitting on this one for a little while and I think I've finally worked up the gump to throw it out there. I'd had my head wrapped up in 'Bad Behavior" and "Raising Ryan" for sooo long, it was a struggle to write Ryan any other way. You'll see a touch of the Ryan I created here…I can't help it, I like that version of him: D I've also been very distracted with this whole 'Mommy' thing I've got going on! It's making it hard to concentrate! I hope this one is worthy of dipping back into the story pool. Enjoy!

Sandy was putting the finishing touches on his sundae when the phone rang. "Always when I'm ready to enjoy myself," he complained, snatching the phone up off the counter. "Hello?"

"I'm looking for Sandy Cohen."

"This is."

"Mr. Cohen, this is Officer Campanelli with the Orange County Sheriff's Department…"

Sandy's heart sank almost faster than his whip cream melting on his sundae. He knew what was coming, but he waited for the punch line to see if the officer would validate his thoughts.

"We have your son here and we need you to come down to the station to pick him up."

"Which son?" Sandy asked, rolling his eyes as Seth walked into the kitchen and made eyes at his sundae.

"Ryan."

"Is he under arrest?"

"He was arrested, yes, but he can be released to the custody of a parent or guardian with a promise to appear in court."

"I'll be right there." Hanging up the phone, Sandy tossed it back on the counter before he reprimanded Seth. "Stay away from my sundae!"

"Why? Sounds to me like your leaving. That's not going to keep Dad."

Disgusted on many levels, Sandy turned on his heel, grabbed his car keys and left the kitchen.

"What about the sundae?" Seth bellowed from the kitchen.

"You owe me one," Sandy yelled from the foyer. "A big one!"

Entering the Sheriff's station, he immediately went to the counter and waited for the slow moving man behind the counter to assist him. As his eyes roamed the surrounding area, he noticed Ryan sitting in one of the holding rooms. Sighing loudly he wondered what he'd done to get himself into this situation.

"Name?" the snail behind the counter barked.

"Sandy Cohen. I'm here to pick up Ryan Atwood."

"Sign here." As soon as Sandy finished scribbling his name, "Wait there," the slug barked again, pointing to the area he wanted Sandy to occupy.

Following the protocol Sandy stood in his assigned spot and watched Ryan through the one-way glass. He definitely kept Sandy on his toes since he arrived in Newport. Funny, sitting in the holding room he looked like any other kid and yet he seemed to find himself a frequent flyer at the police station.

Within moments Sandy was inside one of the interviewing rooms. He paced the floor waiting for them to bring Ryan in. After what seemed like an eternity, finally the door opened and Ryan quietly slipped in, guilt written all over his face.

"So? What's the big news? No one would tell me anything until I came down here," Sandy explained while Ryan avoided eye contact. "I thought we were done with all of this. I thought you told me you never wanted to see the inside of another jail as long as you lived."

"I did."

"Then what are we doing here?" Sandy asked forcefully, tired of getting the runaround.

"It's not as bad as it looks," Ryan started to explain.

"It's not? You were arrested! Again!"

"I know. But I didn't do anything."

"Oh Ryan, how many times are we going to go through this? Every action has a reaction. How you react, determines…"

"Would you listen to me?" Ryan growled, losing patience himself. "I got pulled over for speeding. That's all I was doing is speeding. It's my license that's the problem."

"Why is your license a problem?" a perplexed Sandy inquired.

Ryan opened his mouth to offer an answer but promptly changed his mind when the door swung open and the arresting officer entered.

"Mr. Cohen I presume? I'm Officer Campanelli."

"I would really appreciate it if someone would bring me up to speed as to what's going on."

"That's not a problem." Opening Ryan's file, "We pulled Ryan over for speeding. Upon running his name through the system and checking his priors, we learned about his license."

"What about his license?" Sandy pressed.

"He doesn't have one."

Biting his lip, Ryan's eyes darted back and forth across the table in front of him. Sandy could tell by the way he was fidgeting with his jacket that something was up.

"Officer, could you give us a moment?"

"Sure. I'll be back in a few."

Sandy waited until the door closed before turning his attention back to Ryan, who was still avoiding eye contact.

"Ryan, what is going on? I want the truth."

Swallowing hard, "I didn't do this on purpose Sandy. I came to Newport and I didn't even think about it."

"Think about what? Would you just tell me what this is about?"

"I told you, my license. It's fake."

"That's it? You have a fake ID? That's what they're making the big deal out of? I better go talk to someone and get this straightened…"

"I don't have a license Sandy," Ryan blurted out finally, leaving Sandy speechless.

After a moment, "But you've been driving our cars all over the place."

"I drove in Chino too Sandy. You don't have to have a license to drive." Off of Sandy's look, "Technically."

"And what does this mean for the fine print?"

Swallowing hard again, "I never took the test. Hell, I never took a single Driver's Ed class. My Mom said we couldn't afford it. It was Chino Sandy. You know, sink or swim. I got in, I drove, and I was good at it. I've been driving for years, this is the first time I ever got caught."

Now it was Sandy's turn to swallow hard. How could he not know? Oh, Kirsten was going to have a field day with this one. Pulling out the chair in front of him, Sandy sat down and rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands.

"So you don't have a license…rather, you never had a license?"

"No." Ryan watched Sandy sigh heavily and sit back in his chair, pondering the new information. "Sandy, I…I didn't do this on purpose. I've been driving since I was fourteen. When you're Mom's an alcoholic you have to have a way to get her home. He pulled me over and asked for my ID, I handed it to him without thinking. It didn't even occur to me."

Sandy had seen and heard a lot in his day. Most boys drove at fourteen because they were out joy riding or trying to break in to a crew. He hadn't known anyone to drive at that age because it was the only way to get their drunken mother home.

"Alright. We'll play that card with the judge when it's time to go to court. It's our only option right now. She's going to force you to take a class in order to legally get your license."

Ryan let his eyes drop to the table. Driver's Ed classes. The idea was probably cool to a lot of kids, but to someone who'd been driving for a couple of years already, this was going to suck.

Sandy was as good as his word. He used Ryan's background to work for him instead of against him and luckily the Judge was lenient. He did in fact order Ryan to Drivers Education classes and a hundred hours of community service.

"How could we not know about this?" Kirsten complained after they returned home from court. "How could he lie to us like that? What was he thinking?"

"Honey, there's no need to…"

"No need? Are you kidding me? What if he'd hurt someone while driving?"

"Kirsten, this will get straightened out. Ryan comes from a place where breaking the rules meant surviving…not necessarily doing anything wrong. He did what he had to. He told me himself, when the officer asked for his ID he handed it to him. He didn't even think about it. He wants to make this right. Give him a chance."

Sighing, "Well, you can practice with him. I don't want to be in the car with him while he's learning."

Sandy looked at his wife, confused. "Who are you? Ryan's been driving all of us around for almost a year. He drives just fine. The course is just a technicality. It's what he needs to do to make this right."

Rolling her eyes, Kirsten nodded. She'd been in the car plenty of times with Ryan behind the wheel. Forcing him to take a course did seem stupid. "We have to make sure he takes this seriously Sandy."

"He will."

Ryan had to wait nearly a month before he was able to get in a driving class that had room for him. Apparently Orange County had a lot of people that had always been chauffeured around most of their lives and now they needed to learn for themselves. He'd also been to plenty of parties in Newport and he was confident most of these people were there for moving violations, probably involving alcohol.

Sandy walked Ryan to the counter and took care of his paperwork. The employee behind the counter seemed to share the same work ethic as the counter officer at the Sheriff's station, slow as molasses.

Once everything was in order, they walked down the hallway and found a group of people lingering about. Apparently the instructor hadn't arrived yet. Looking around the group, Ryan immediately felt out of place. For the first time since this whole thing happened, he felt butterflies bouncing in his stomach. He had to spend ten weeks with these people. Grimacing at that thought, he threw himself against the wall and let his head hit the bricks.

"It'll be okay kid. You'll breeze right though this."

Still brooding over the pending class, Ryan let his head roll to the side where he locked eyes on a cute girl leaning against the opposite wall. He straightened himself up when she smiled at him and allowed a crooked smile to make its way onto his face.

Noticing the change in his mood, as well as the reason for the change in his posture, Sandy snuffed that whole thing out before it started. "Forget the women for a while kid. You're here to learn to drive."

"I already know how to drive," Ryan muttered indignantly.

"Ryan…"

"I know, I know. I'm here to do work, not get girls," he sighed.

"Thank you."

"Excuse me people, excuse me." A man about Sandy's age pushed his way through the crowd. With his arms loaded with books and binders and a large set of keys in his hand, it was a safe to assume he was the instructor.

Ryan took one look at the man's balding head, handlebar mustache and striped bow tie before dropping Sandy one of his trademark glares.

"Look at the bright side, there's nothing distracting about him so you can concentrate on learning."

Rolling his eyes, Ryan pushed off the wall. "The glare off his head is going to be a problem."

"I'll see you after class," Sandy stated with a smile and a pat on Ryan's shoulder. "Oh and Ryan? Stay in class," he added as a warning. The look on Ryan's face confirmed there was a possibility of him getting "lost" on the way to the men's room during one of their breaks.

As one of the last attendees to file into class, Ryan was more than happy to take a seat in the back of the class. Baldie came around and passed out their materials and excitedly talked about the learning experience that awaited them. Slumping down in his chair, Ryan drummed his fingers on his textbook. It was going to be a challenge, listening to Baldie for the next ten weeks. He was entirely too passionate about these books and their offerings. Were people in Newport really that gullible, to believe that learning the rules of the road would be entertaining and fascinating? Smirking to himself, he supposed it was true since most members of the community had a skewed handle on life anyways.

The weeks wore on as the class reviewed materials, had discussions and took tests. Ryan was surprised to see that the materials and the tests were mostly based on common sense. He expected the lessons to be more technically challenging somehow. Apparently they were challenging for some of the Newport people. Mrs. O'Shea could always be counted on to bring a smile to Ryan's face. The woman couldn't understand why it was wrong to tell a bus driver that just had to go around the stopped bus to avoid being late for a lunch date. Or why it was wrong to park in the middle of two parking places to avoid anyone scratching her car. And for someone her age, it was extraordinarily entertaining to hear her state that speed limit signs were probably only suggestions anyway. That had to be Ryan's favorite comment. More so, he enjoyed watching Baldie get his bow tie in a bunch, frustrated with the woman's lack of commitment to learning, and accepting, the materials…and the law for that matter.

At the end of class, the instructor bid farewell as everyone filed past him. As Ryan approached however, the instructor grabbed his jacket sleeve. "Ryan Atwood. Could you stay behind for just a moment please?"

Great. A personal meeting with Baldie. Just what he didn't want. Stepping aside Ryan watched the other students leaving, wishing he were going with him. When the last person left and the door shut, Ryan let his eyes drop to the floor, wondering what Baldie had in store for him.

"So, Mr. Atwood, I wanted to talk to you about your tests."

Ryan's head shot up. Now he knew where this was going.

"Either you're the most gifted student I've ever had…or…" Baldie's eyebrows went up, not wanting to state the obvious.

"You think I'm cheating," Ryan answered flatly, his tone expressing his aggravation. "I'm a kid. Everyone else in here is old. I'm still in the stage of studying and taking tests. These people haven't done that in years."

"Yes, well, truth be told, this is Newport and most people in Newport don't take this course…seriously."

"I'm not from here." Pursing his lips, Ryan glared at Baldie.

The instructor eyed Ryan's scruffy hair and his leather jacket. The kid was probably telling the truth.

"Then what are you doing here? Attending this class I mean?"

"I just moved here. I live here now. I'm just not…obtuse like most of Newport's residents."

The instructor raised his hand across his sweater vest and straightened his bow tie, clearly offended by the obtuse comment since he represented Newport as well.

Ryan had had about enough of their little meeting. "I've been driving for years, I just never got the paperwork to make it legal. You think I'm cheating? Give me any test any time and I will ace it every time. I know what I'm doing. I'm just trying to make it right."

Striding away in a huff, Ryan pushed the door open and left the classroom.

"I'm not obtuse," Baldie moaned under his breath after Ryan left.

By the time he got outside, Ryan was more than frustrated. Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out his pack of cigarettes and lit up, oblivious to the fact that Sandy was parked nearby and could see the entire act.

"Uh oh. That's not good." Getting out of his car, Sandy met up with Ryan to find out what happened. "No, no Ryan. You're not supposed to be doing that." Sandy attempted to reach for Ryan's cigarette but he turned away.

"He thinks I'm cheating!" Ryan barked before taking another drag off his stick.

"What? Why?"

"Because I've aced every test so far and apparently I'm the only one in Newport to do that. He thinks I'm cheating."

Sandy could understand Ryan's frustration, rightfully so. "I can talk to him if you want."

"No. I told him to test me on any thing at any time I'd still pass it. I'm gonna cram this down his throat."

At the next class, Baldie requested that Ryan stay behind again. Confident that a matching of wits was about to follow, Ryan took his time approaching the instructor's desk before allowing his textbook to slam down on it's corner.

"Yes, well, there's no need for that," Baldie explained, straightening his bowtie.

Ryan on threw him a sideways glance as if to say 'I'll be the judge of that.'

"I thought about what you said last week," Baldie continued. "I'll make a deal with you. I'll create a test for you. If you ace it, I will see to it that you get your paperwork to acquire your legal license. You'll still have to do some behind the wheel instruction of course, just to prove to me you can in fact drive as well as you say you do, but…"

Narrowing his eyes at the man, Ryan contemplated the game piece that had just been set into play. "And why are you doing this? You think I'm a cheater."

His tone and matching expression gave the instructor goose bumps. He was sorry he'd opened his mouth to this kid in the first place. Time would have told the tale on it's own, whether or not Ryan was as good as he said he was.

Clearing his throat, he fidgeted with his tie again. "I…may have…jumped to conclusions…when we spoke last week. I just wanted to give you the chance to show your knowledge."

"You're giving me permission to stick it to you?" Ryan asked candidly.

Stuttering on his words, "I…I…prefer not to look at it quite like that. But I suppose that's true."

The silence between the two caused the instructor to be restless and he fidgeted with some papers on his desk, not really doing anything with them other than moving them from one pile to another in order to avoid Ryan's stare.

"Alright," Ryan finally agreed. "I'll take your test. Bring it next week. I'll stay after."

Picking up the textbook he'd slammed down earlier, Ryan walked out of class.

"Mind if I drive?" Ryan asked as he and Kirsten approached the car on the way home from errands a few days later. "I'm supposed to be practicing." He raised his eyebrows the way he did when the situation at hand was obviously stupid but had to be tolerated anyway. He did this the most often when he talked with Seth.

"Sure." Nervously relinquishing her keys, she took a seat on the passenger side and immediately buckled her seatbelt. Ryan noticed instantly.

"I'm the same kid that's been driving you around for the past ten months. You know I know how to drive."

Kirsten sighed and looked at Ryan. This was a repeat of her conversation with Sandy. "I know. I don't know why I feel differently about it now. I guess it's because you never learned everything you need to know, since you didn't take a course."

"When you brought me into your home, I had been arrested for stealing cars. In order to steal a car, you have to know how to drive them. Crews don't like it when you show up for a job saying you've never driven a car before."

Chuckling at the ridiculousness of the concept he'd laid out, Kirsten turned to him again. "I know. And you're right, I know you can drive and I'm sure you know the basics. I just want you to be safe. I want you to go through the course so this gets straightened out for you."

"I know. Me too." He paused a moment before continuing. "So, now that we agree that I can get us home in one piece, maybe you could stop griping the door handle like that? It's not like I'm going to roll us or anything."

Unaware of the body language she was demonstrating, she looked down at her white-knuckled grip on the door handle, pulling it away automatically. "Right. Sorry."

Throwing one of his trademark, crooked smiles, Ryan started the car, pulled out and headed for home…just like they'd done a hundred times before.

Ryan worked his tail off that week, putting in as many of his community service hours as he could. When the next driving class rolled around, he found himself feeling feisty over the test Baldie was going to offer him. Even if he didn't ace it, he still wanted to see just how much he knew. He didn't think Baldie had the guts to try to pull a fast one, like claim he failed when he didn't. Just like most of the people in Newport, he had no backbone. It didn't take much to keep him from crossing the line.

This particular class proved to be rather interesting. They discussed certain road situations and emergencies, which lead to more rather entertaining remarks from Mrs. O'Shea. This was also the class where Ryan learned the following week would be entirely out on the driving course and with a partner. In his case, this would be Mrs. O'Shea. Well, at least their time in the car would be interesting, that's for sure.

When class ended, Ryan walked past Baldie's desk and mumbled, "I'll be right back." He followed the rest of the class out the door and stopped off in the men's room, giving the rest of the students time to leave the building. Surely someone would be growing suspicious if they caught him staying after for the third week in a row. After a few minutes he returned to the classroom to find Baldie nervously waiting.

"I wasn't sure you were coming back," he explained.

"You think I'd pass up a chance to cram this down your throat? I'm looking forward to this." Ryan took a seat right in front of Baldie's desk and tossed his textbook onto Baldie's desk. "This is so you can keep a close eye on me. You know, make sure I don't have the answers written on my arms or anything like that."

The instructor swallowed hard and rifled through his bag looking for Ryan's test. "Okay then. This is your test. Just…do the best you can…and we'll go from there."

Ryan took his time, reading each question carefully. He was convinced at least half of the questions would probably challenge the obvious answer and that it would all be in the wording. Still, the test seemed to come easy to him and forty minutes later he was finished.

Setting his pencil down, Ryan leaned back in his chair, pushed his packet forward and eyed Baldie who was chewing his nails methodically. "Now what? Can I trust you to grade it honestly?"

He'd clearly dug a hole for himself with this 'cheating' thing. Wanting to make it right, "I'll grade it right now if you can stay a little longer."

"I've got all night."

Ryan got up and tossed his packet down in front of the instructor before taking his seat again right in front of the Baldie's desk. The teacher watched every move he made during the test and now he was going to repay that same 'courtesy'.

Watching him work through page after page of the packet, Ryan became aware of the fact that Baldie hadn't made any marks on any of the pages he'd already checked. Ryan could only assume that was a good sign, that it meant those pages didn't have any wrong answers on them. It took some time, but finally the instructor flipped the packet back to the front page and stared at it. At first Ryan wasn't sure what to think.

"You passed. One hundred percent."

"Still think I'm a cheater?" Ryan pressed.

"No. I'm sorry for doubting you. Clearly, you've taken the course seriously and you've learned the materials…all of the materials."

"What are you saying?" Ryan asked, watching the instructor carefully.

"I'm saying…you just took your final test. And you aced it."

Ryan's eyebrows went up. He figured Baldie had created the test to challenge him specifically. The news of passing the final exam four weeks ahead of schedule was definitely a feather in his cap.

"You did good Ryan. I'll see you next week for the hands on portion."

"Right. Me and Mrs. O'Shea, that should be interesting."

Baldie chuckled at that thought. "My best student and my worst student in the same car. I hope you don't hurt each other."

"That makes two of us."

The week flew by in a flash and before he knew it, Ryan found himself sitting in car with Mrs. O'Shea, who insisted that 'ladies go first'. Reaching for his seat belt, Ryan buckled himself in. He'd heard what this woman had to say in class, it was safe to assume a rough ride was going to follow.

One by one the cars each made a lap around the course while the instructor's voice bellowed through the radio's closed circuit communication system, yapping out instructions. He was constantly reminding Mrs. O'Shea that she needed to use her turn signal.

"What is wrong with this fool?" she hollered, shaking her hand at the dashboard where the voice was coming from, indignant to the fact that Baldie couldn't hear her. "If I'm in the turn lane, I'm obviously going that way! My God!"

With his arm resting on the window ledge, Ryan quickly moved his hand over his mouth to hide his laugh. Mrs. O'Shea was getting more and more worked up as time went on and they'd only been in the car for fifteen minutes.

Not two minutes later, she'd decided she'd had enough and she stopped their car in the middle of the course and threw it into park. "That's it! I quit! I'm not cut out for this! How can I drive when he's yelling at me all the time! My car doesn't yell at me! You drive kid. I can't do this any more." Without further discussion, she ripped off her seat belt, threw open the door and was on Ryan's side of the car yanking his door open and urging him out of the car. "Come on kid, I'm old! You drive!"

The entire time, Baldie was screaming over the radio for Mrs. O'Shea to get back in the car and continue her lesson. Wanting to put an end to all the yelling, Ryan got out and shut the door after Mrs. O'Shea took her seat. Once seated in the driver's seat, he snapped his belt on just as Baldie's exasperated voice came over the radio again, attempting to sound calm.

"Drive nice, Atwood."

It was at that moment that it dawned on Mrs. O'Shea maybe Ryan couldn't drive so well either.

"We aren't going to crash…are we?"

Ryan snickered and glanced at the suddenly terrified old woman. Clearly she was having second thoughts of relinquishing her time at the wheel.

"You don't want to crash?" Ryan teased, fastening his seatbelt.

"No, not really."

"Okay. Then we won't crash."

Wrapping his hand around the gear selector, Ryan shifted the car into 'Drive' and with a single hand, he confidently, and rather quickly, wound the car through the rest of the course and got back in line behind the other student cars.

The radio remained quiet.

Mrs. O'Shea was quite impressed. "How did you learn to do that? You didn't jerk or anything. How can you drive with only one hand like that? The book says hands at ten and two o'clock, you know, on the wheel."

"Not everything in life should be done by the book," Ryan answered.

"So that's the key huh? The hell with the book? Well that's easy enough."

"No, no, no," Ryan answered, putting a halt to her grand plan. "You can only say the hell with the book after you've learned it all. Then you can improvise a little bit."

The woman pondered Ryan's explanation for a moment. "So, how did you learn to drive? This obviously isn't your first time."

"No, it's not. I've been driving for a while, I just never got a license. Got caught driving without one. They don't like it when you do that."

"I know. That's how I ended up here too."

Ryan snapped his head at the old woman. He wasn't expecting that explanation.

"It took me almost twelve years to get caught. Damn mail truck pulled out in front of me. I was going that way first. Taught him a lesson that's for sure."

Ryan's shoulder shook with laughter. The old woman was definitely a card. Who knew, in the end, they'd actually have something in common.

"You know he's going to make you drive a lot next week, since you skipped your turn today," he reminded her.

"I know. You think you could help me out kid? Tell me what to do? I just want Baldie off my back so I can get my license and get back to my life."

"You call him Baldie too?"

"Of course. After all, he is…"

"That he is."

Ryan was as good as his word and he coached Mrs. O'Shea through the remaining lessons. It came as no surprise when Baldie approached Ryan and asked him to forgo his driving time to allow the old woman more time behind the wheel. Ryan knew this was an acknowledgement on Baldie's part that Ryan knew what he was doing behind the wheel and didn't need the practice. Mrs. O'Shea on the other hand…

Ryan worked with her and got her to be…not so bad behind the wheel. The one thing that seemed impossible to break her of, was yelling at the radio in response to something that Baldie had to say. If Ryan had a dollar for every time that happened, he could have bought himself a car by now.

The end of the class finally rolled around and it was a long time coming. Ryan felt he'd never get there. Even though he'd already passed his exam and proven on the driving range that he could handle a car, he still had to sit through class until the course was over with.

He was the last one to pick up his final paper work to go apply for his license. Baldie was just as happy as Ryan was that the course had come to an end.

"Well, Mr. Atwood…looks like we both survived a class with Mrs. O'Shea in it," he joked.

"Yeah, but you gave her her paperwork to go get her license, now we have to watch out for her out on the street."

Sighing, "This is true. I can't always stop the ones I think should just stay home." He paused a moment before continuing. "Can I ask you something?" He waited for Ryan to nod. "How did you end up here? In this class, I mean? Clearly you know how to drive. Too many speeding tickets or something?"

Ryan smirked mischievously. "I never had a license. This will be my first one."

"Yes but, this is a court assigned course. A judge had to assign you to come here. Did you just get caught without a license?"

"Pretty much."

"But, if you've never had a license before, where did you learn to drive like that?"

Before answering, Ryan folded his paperwork and slipped it into the inner pocket of his leather jacket. "I used to steal cars." Off of Baldie's look, "Used to. I'll see you around."

Baldie watched Ryan walk out of his class. He sat down gingerly and groped at his bow tie. He just taught a car theft how to drive…that was a first.

That Saturday morning, Ryan and Sandy returned from the DMV and Ryan held up his 'official' ID with a big smile on his face.

Seth was the first to offer his congratulations. "Ryan, that's great! Although I will miss the sneaking around part before you had a license."

"Seth, you didn't know I didn't have a license."

Think a moment, "That's true, but in hindsight, it was very stealth of you."

Proud of Ryan's accomplishment, "Well, now he's official and he doesn't have to be stealth any more," Sandy gloated.

"And I won't do stupid things like put a white-knuckled grip on the door handle…even when I know there's nothing to worry about," Kirsten smiled. "Congratulations Ryan. Getting a license if a big achievement."

"Thanks." Ryan looked down at his new ID as Seth looked over his shoulder.

"Why do you always have to take good pictures?" he complained. "Ryan don't you know you're license photo is supposed to look like complete crap and nothing like you? Like you've been out on a week-long bender or something."

Not willing to be outdone, "Did you even comb your hair for you picture? It was sticking up like a rooster's ass," Ryan commented. He'd seen Seth's ID and it wasn't pretty.

Drumming his fingers on the counter top, "No I didn't. I was too excited about getting my ID. Maybe we should just move onto lunch? Want to go down to the pier?"

"Yeah, sounds good."

"Cool. I'll drive."

Snatching the keys out of Seth's hand, "No…I'll drive!"

(The End)


End file.
